


the early morning rain

by crickets



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-26
Updated: 2010-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 04:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crickets/pseuds/crickets





	the early morning rain

Claire wakes on a rainy Saturday to the faint scent of hot ginger tea. Sawyer sits next to her on the bed in his most worn pair of jeans and she can hear the cup wobbling in the saucer.

"You made me tea," Claire coos, a groggy sweet sort of sound that Sawyer has grown used to by now.

"Don't think you never taught me nothing," he says and smiles, kisses her lips when she leans up to him.

\--

Claire loves a rainy weekend, even being under the weather as she is, because it means cuddling and an excuse to light the fire. It means the dirt roads outside are far too muddy to drive into town. Sawyer teases her, tells her he doesn't know why they came here, doesn't know how she can stand it.

 _All this rain_ , he says. _Feels like we'll never be dry._

Claire just smiles because she knows he loves it too -- he gives himself away with the way that he stares into the gray light of the kitchen window and when he takes too long to walk the mile up to their mailbox and back. Even if he didn't, she knows he'd always follow where she would go. They're tethered, the two of them. After everything, it just seemed natural. Neither of them wanted to be around other people. The art of everyday conversation had somehow faded away and both of them knew they'd only ever be fully understood in each other's company.

In the end, it just made sense.

\--

The weekend passes lazily, but all-too-fast -- the storms not letting up a bit.

Sawyer finds her in the washroom on Sunday night, a bubble bath filled to the brim of the ivory tub. "I should call off tomorrow," he says as he sits on the edge of the tub. He speaks of the feed store a few miles away.

Claire makes a show of thinking about it as Sawyer's fingers slip under the suds and into the water, sliding over her slick knee. It's not like they need the money. _They could buy that feed store if they wanted to._ "I think so," she says finally, lifting her leg a bit and reaching out to catch his arm. The motion unsettles his balance and she uses the opportunity to pull him into the tub with her, water and soap going over the sides.

She kisses him then, to the sound of the rain, and Sawyer groans into her mouth -- partially out of the frustration of suddenly being stuck in a pair of wet jeans and partially out of arousal.

Claire laughs, splashes him a little when he leans his back against the side of the tub. She apologizes, promises him she'll help him out of his wet clothes, tells him she's feeling much better.

\--

Later back in their cotton linens, Sawyer lays curled in her arms, his head on her chest. Claire runs her fingers through his hair, listening to the sound of his voice as he hums something that sounds like Bob Marley or Pink Floyd. Claire could almost fall asleep to this, knows she has in the past.

When his voice trails off, Claire tells him he needs a trim, tells him she'll cut it for him if he wants. She can feel him smile against her, can feel his large warm hand sliding over her abdomen.

"Don't remember what it was like before this." He admits. "I do. But, I don't know how," he says. "How'd we get here anyway? Don't it feel like it's been forever?"

He says things like this sometimes when he's half-asleep and not thinking straight and Claire can't help but think that it's the truth. _Almost._

She _does_ remember, of course.

She remembers suggesting he come with her, when she finally decided to leave, to go to the country, someplace far away. She remembers the way he lowered his head, the darkness in his voice. They'd fought so hard to get back to civilization. And now here she was abandoning it. Claire had known even before she asked that he would never let her go alone.

They'd moved in on a rainy night, carried their sleeping bags from the truck, lit candles in the dark. Claire stood out in the rain, tracked bare footprints through the house, twirled in a circle in the middle of the empty living room. Sawyer stood in the doorway, still wet from unloading their things.

She remembers how he grabbed her wrist in a way that he never had before."C'mere," he whispered, pressing her against the wall. It was the first time they'd acknowledged this thing between them, the first time she felt like his, and he hers. She remembers the hardwood floor against her back, the sleeping bags still bound in the corner of the room. She remembers the sound of her name on his lips, the feel of his weight upon her, the sound of thunder in the distance and of rain on the roof.

Most of all, she remembers the sound of the rain. And even on that first night, Claire knew she never wanted to be anywhere else.

 _-fin_


End file.
